Laconic
by lye tea
Summary: Drabbles.
1. Time Spent While Waiting

c h a r a c t e r.The Cabbage Man

* * *

**Time Spent While Waiting**

The cabbage merchant had a name. But after years of selling vegetables, he was just known as the cabbage man (_merchant_ only on polite terms). And eventually, even his own deceased wife saw him as so. At least she was affectionate when she said it.

He spent the time in between harvest and spring in a shop. He cooked and cleaned and the like. He had lived once, with vigor and energy and knew love too. But that was a long time ago and now, he simply reconciled himself with his trade.

"How about a game of Pai Cho?" the stranger asked.

And the storekeeper grinned (and revealed all the gaps in his mouth, where teeth once gleamed back). "Maybe just one."

It was quiet that winter, the time lulling and lingering between two dreads. Illusions trembled and danced, but they didn't bother or challenge him—not now, not in his old age. Not when he couldn't care less.

"How about one more?" the stranger asked again, collected the tiles together in the tabletop's middle. The stones shuffled, muted and dull, like soft feet treading on fallen leaves.

"Maybe just one more."


	2. Of Mercy

c h a r a c t e r.Azula

* * *

**Of Mercy**

…_there is no such thing as mercy…_

Azula was born in fury, in fire, in ire. Her mother was terrified, thinking she'd just kissed a monster. But her father and grandfather were ecstatic, all because Azula didn't have a soul and that was such a wonderful thing.

"She has talent, that one," Azulon remarked.

Talent and more. She could whisper out flames caked with deceits and make puppets dance till they're drunk with glory.

And they would all applaud thinking they've been blessed, by a little demon soon to be weaving tangles of lies and stringing them in with pretty words and charm.

**-x-**

When her mother left, Azula laughed. (See, she can smile like everyone else.) Ursa left without warning, without her little, killing daughter. Ursa left without regret.

Azula did too, left her grandfather to die as the venom slowly sank in, slithered along his veins and laced around the blood. With Azula hoping, _praying_ that he would die just a bit quicker.

"Sorry, Grandfather, that wasn't really tea. But I'm sure you know already."

Then, Azulon died, teetered over without dignity and grace, just some withered old man. Some old man who happened to choke in his sleep. An accident, of course.

Then Ozai was crowned Fire Lord, but Azula couldn't have any of that.

"He is _weak_," she told herself, chanted and chanted defiantly as if saying it aloud made all the difference in the world.

And so, she waited for a moment, for an instant where he was blind, to strike (him down and bloody). But now, she had to be good and sweet and congratulate her father on his cleverness, on how it must be fate for him to rule.

"Just you wait," Azula hissed and went away grinning big and fake.


	3. Funny

**Character: **Azula, Ty Lee

* * *

**Funny**

There is no humor in heaven, Azula learns. There is crying, there is mourning, there are long jeremiads about this-and-that, who-and-whom. But there is no laughter, and Azula greatly admires this.

This is serene.

This is permanent.

And she is here to stay. And somehow, she brings with her curses too, rolled up in days and nights, and long, high-flying clouds that look like angel wings. But they're really all her secret malices and vices that she has hidden, waiting to unleash.

And there, sitting in her lonesome is Ty Lee. She is all a wreck (beat up, threw up). Her face is mottled with the bruises from The Last Days Of The War, and there is nothing left to her features. Which strikes Azula as odd because Ty Lee was always the pretty one. And where—

"Azula," Ty Lee calls. Her voice howling and alarming, the sound coming out of a bottle as the glass shatters against cobbled pathways.

"What?" And she is snapping back.

"I—I—"

And suddenly, Azula sort-of-really starts laughing. _Imagine that!_ she thinks. That this is how it ends, that this is how all their efforts culminate to be.

"Oh Ty Lee, you were always the stupid one too."


	4. Mixed Metaphor

**Pairing: **Sokka x Katara

* * *

**Mixed Metaphor**

"It's hard to explain," she says.

And he clenches his jaws, makes his fists all tight and furious, and he is restraining the anger too. But it comes out anyway, in waves and gushes and long-riding, rolling thunders. Because he is made _incensed_. Indignant, even.

"What's hard to explain?" so he replies, through bitter teeth and a fickle tongue.

She is the shell and he is the clam. Inside. And when she devours him, surrounds her little arms around his neck, he is left hopeless. Wasted. And that is how it always will be.

"Everything. But don't worry. You'll always be the first."


	5. Favorite

**Character: **Ursa

* * *

**Favorite**

Zuko was sweet, and Azula never was. And so, Ursa loved Zuko unequivocally. As for That One (Azula) Ursa shuddered in fear and repulsion, her hands icy and shaking, and a voice is screaming (clear, sharp, and _sweet_) in her head.

"For you," Azula says proudly. And thrusts a bundled mess of flowers into Ursa's lap.

"Thank you."

And for a moment, Ursa tries to smile but Azula is not letting her. Is not releasing her arm, is not (stopping) playing.

**-x-**

"Mother loves me more!"

Azula snarled, unleashing ten years of pent-up rage. And before Ursa could register exactly what happened, Zuko was on the floor. Unconscious, beaten, and his jaw-bone blatantly white (exposed).

Soon, the screams began, but Zuko continued to whimper. And Azula continued to say (in her baby-soft, lulling voice): Mommy, Mommy. I Am So Sorry.

And Ursa reached over to pet her daughter, but her hand froze in midair. Scared and panicked, Ursa ran.

**-x-**

On the night she left, Ursa kissed Zuko goodbye. And Azula saw—

Everything.

But she didn't (the latter) say a word and from then till forever, Azula swore to make her—them pay.

And so, they did. On the last day (right up to the second, to the _hilt_), Ursa came back. And Ozai passed out from shock. And Azula burst into flames. And Zuko was waiting. For her—Mother.

At last.


	6. Decayed

**Character: **Jun

* * *

**Decayed**

Where the world has all been decayed—

—where his bones have turned to soap and ash and dust, and the years are grayed (and ebb away)—

Jun can think of three days in one. And each is shorter than the last, and each is quicker (swifter, more pleading, going, going, like a dagger in the wind) than the last. She counts her fingers as her years, and her face reflects the scars she's seen

And one day, Jun does not count anymore.

And one day, Jun lies down to rest. To decay.

(Like him and them, and everyone before.)

**-x-**

Now, she is twenty and two (separately). She is the girl at twenty about to married, wed, and thrown into the lions' den. And she is the little kid just turned two, ready to indulge in—

And then, that's when Jun remembers: she's a murder.

And that is when she must repent. But she does not (never does) because she could see no wrong.

Never could.

**-x-**

And now, she is old—old like the sea, like roaring howls from far, far away (from a land to east, where the west does not reach). But she still remembers she day she died. All those years ago.

This is the stage where sleep refuses to come ever again.

**-x-**

_I was so pretty_, she thinks. And the wrinkles and creases and craters in her face are all smudged, blurred into something wonderfully ugly. _See_.

She is still beautiful. In a different way.

In a grotesque way.

And now, she thinks: this rue must die, some way or another.

Because she's sick of all this. Ill and lethal, and still wanting.

And now, she understands: there's no virtue left in her. And she is not mournful—not one bit. (Leave it for the dead, for the dolor). For the angst, for the waste to all cave in.


	7. Aftermath

**Pairing:** Zuko x Katara

* * *

**Aftermath**

The rain is falling down hard, and the image of that man (you know, _him_—she keeps his head and eye tucked forever in mind) keeps on blaring. It's falling fast, it's falling apart. And she is feeling like there's no way out.

Like a failed catharsis, there's no relieve, no tension unbolted, untapped, and fully tossed out. There's no—without—no, there's no expurgation. And the heat is churning, burning into a fierce, ground-up ball of hate and tissue in her core. She can't let this go.

And he's telling her she must. And _he's_ tell her she mustn't. And she's left all alone and frenetic and desperate, and desperately seeking: for some way out. That just isn't coming.

Zuko is leaning in now, tightening his grip on the reigns (there's a blemish on her knuckles, a scar stretched over the skin that's white and marble). He's trying to take the rope, and she's not letting go. There's no way: there is no letting go.

Sometimes, when hate and spite and all those things rancorous build up and out, it's like a fuse about to go. It's simmering, it's boiling, but it's not going away—not letting itself get snuffed out. Because some things are meant to stay forever, to endure.

And hate is one of them.


	8. Fade

**Pairing: **Zuko x Katara

* * *

**Fade**

The evening fades from blue to grey to black.

The sky over their heads stretches out lazily till (when she tilts her head) she could almost touch the tips.

She yawns and slumps over his shoulder (she feigns sleep and begins to snore).

Her mind is drifting off somewhere, and she could feel her body going numb.

He puts his arms around her (tentative, the gesture) and thinks that this is what the poets would have called "just right".

And Zuko raises the campfire another degree. The flames flare, and he grins wildly into it.

Katara does not notice, she's _really_ falling asleep now.


	9. Measure

**Pairing: **Zuko x Katara

* * *

**Measure**

She took him shopping for rice that morning, at the early market just outside of town.

She took him by his hands, actually touched him (he was shocked) and led him down the rushing streets. She smiled when she turned his way, and he couldn't be happier. He liked to think that she was finally forgiving him (or showing some semblance of less-frigidness).

"Is this enough?" he gestured towards the basket.

"Yeah, just for tonight."

"Are we leaving again?"

Katara took him in for the first time that week (looked at him without bias, without expectations).

And waited for him to sigh.

"That's right. We can't stay at one place too long."

And Zuko understood all too well. She had it figured out, down to the tiniest details, the smallest shreds (that he would have ignored).

He lifted the basket from her hands.


	10. Excite

**Pairing: **Zuko x Katara

* * *

**Excite**

Sometimes, he wonders exactly what it _was_ about her. That made him shiver, that made him blush and cringe and wish he were eloquent (like Azula) just once.

And so, when she kissed him suddenly that night, Zuko felt his heart shrinking away. And soaring. And running on this artificial fuel high.

She could do things like that to him, just by a simple touch. Or glance.

(He especially loathed the looks. They left nothing to take in the wake.)

And sometimes, Zuko thinks that it would be better—healthier and less hurting—if she were like any other girl. If she couldn't do what she does with just a turn of the chin.

It scares him, he admits.


	11. Deep

**Pairing: **Zuko x Katara

* * *

**Deep**

They swim in the river deep, they wade up to their knees, they jettison worries overboard in bundles and weaves.

By the candlelight, she stitches him threadbare shirts and years-worn pants. He reads her poetry, by the moon's long, yearning silhouette.

They pretend that they are just any two persons in the world.

She makes her stitches small and careful (shakes out the loose ties and tattered cloths) and imagines that he would wear them one day.

And he recites his poetry with love, tenderly. And likes to think of them as filled with joy and no dread. Dread in a war that does not ever end. Dread in knowing that this is all make-believe, and that when the morning comes, the shadows die out.

They sit on premature, shallow graves—with hearts submerged too far in.


	12. Unlikely

**Pairing: **Zuko x Katara

* * *

**Unlikely**

He is an unlikely hero, lost and left to drift forever without end.

And she is an unlikely comfort.

And for the longest time, he could've sworn that she hated him. So much, so long and powerful and winding up towards an explosive moment.

So, when she takes him into her arms (merciful) and tells him that it'll all be all right, he cries rivers. He cries for all that happened (his part and his father and his grandfather and so on). And when she keeps silent and listens, he knows that they've come to an understanding.

That's it'll all be fine, that the bloody, scarred face wasn't his sister's. That his father will still be alive (and miraculously repentant). That his mother was alive and well.

Katara hugs him close and strips him of his defenses. She peels away the blistered tissue and kisses the new skin underneath.

And she tells him that he's a hero.


	13. Out

**Pairing: **Zuko x Katara

* * *

**Out**

The door slammed shut; there was no way out.

She clung to him (in a moment of fear, when the walls were closing in). It had been an accident—he knew it too. But that didn't matter so much when they laced fingers together.

Katara rehearsed words in her head. She prayed, silently, to any deity she could remember (and was surprised that she remembered a lot).

"Will you stop that?" he said.

She would have turned to glare if there were room.

"No. And _you_ stop telling me what to do!"

"I'm _not_ telling you what to do. But I am now. And I'm telling you to stop _mov_ing so much."

"We're stuck miles underground with your crazy sister at the other end no doubt and that all you an say?"

"Yeah. And…I'm sorry."


	14. Lock

**Pairing: **Zuko x Katara

* * *

**Lock**

Sokka played a cruel prank on them today. He locked them up in the attic and tossed the key out.

He found it amusing.

They did not.

-

Ty Lee crippled her pressure points today. And shoved her and Zuko into a closet.

Ty Lee meant it as a joke (very, very funny).

Katara saw it as a declaration of war.

Ty Lee meant no harm. Katara was not appeased.

-

Aang gave him a puzzle today.

And told him (Zuko) that he had to solve it before the next full moon, or otherwise, he (the Avatar) would very, quite, extremely cross.

Zuko saw it as a good-natured nothing.

Aang warned him that it wasn't.

Zuko would be scared, if he were anyone else.

-

It was a full moon today.

And they found them (Zuko & Katara) sitting together. Just sitting. And for once, they didn't make anything of it. Just left them be.


	15. Favor

**Pairing: **Zuko x Katara

* * *

**Favor**

She asked him to tie the sash. He complied (the too intimate gesture). His hands shook as he gathered the watery silk, and he could feel a blushing coming on.

Katara didn't take notice (pretended not to see) and held on tightly to the mahogany post.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

And he left, wondering if it had all been a (bad) dream.

-

At dinner, his hand met hers. And for a moment, it seemed as if something was about to happy. Like they stood on a cliff, about to throw—leap—over the edge.

And he stopped. It had been an accident.

And the blush continued, this time spreading to the roots of his hair.

-

He taught Aang to firebend in the early morning (when the sun was just rising and bursting with new energy).

She finished by tossing Aang into the river at night.

Zuko smirked the first time he saw that. She returned a secret smile back.

Aang was a good student, they just weren't cut out to teach.

-

As a favor for him (for all the instances she wanted to drown him) she healed Mai.

And dressed her for the celebration. They were friends, and this was how it was supposed to be.

Quiet, at last.


	16. Blush

**Pairing: **Zuko x Katara

* * *

**Blush**

Aunt Wu was a fortuneteller of a sort. She was an expert in telling people (in playing them). She was a master at elusions. But Aunt Wu never lied (her truths were merely always exaggerated or understated). But Aunt Wu was never wrong.

She had tricks up her sleeves hidden under rocks and inside clouds.

And so, when Aunt Wu promised Katara she would marry a powerful Bender, Aunt Wu made sure she couldn't be doubted.

"I'm glad to see you survived the war."

"I had beautiful hands like yours once. And now look at them!"

The old lady laughed and sprouted puffs of smoke with each cackle. She extended her cracked hands and bony fingers for Katara to see.

"I was in love too, once upon a time. He was very handsome too."

Katara stared into her cup and sees the opaque, orange reflections of a sunset.

"I'm not in love."

Aunt Wu didn't reply.

Aunt Wu never lied.


	17. Free

**Pairing: **Zuko x Katara

* * *

**Free**

He tied her up to a tree, and for retribution, she tied him up in a noose.

They liked to fondle lives and breaths in these messed up little games.

She tugged at the woven rope but not quite—always stopped before the end. It was a game, a ploy, a diplomatic subterfuge to confuse the other.

An opponent.

A coy, smarting slap and she resonated—head tilted back and laughing—and then, she is home free. Unleashed and wanting.

"More."

He pulled her close and tasted the thousand-year-old wine hot on her breath (and knew that his was much, much stronger). It's pungent and biting, like the sound of teeth gnashing or bones crushing.

They kiss. He could feel his heart rumble.

She sucked in air.


	18. Perhaps

**Pairing: **Zuko x Katara

* * *

**Perhaps**

Perhaps the world will end one day and they will perish along with it. And perhaps they will never grow old (together) know the taste of love (true and blushingly bright) or understand the subtle hints of life.

And perhaps they are doomed from the start.

But in their private wonderings they are forever safe and young (and there is no "perhaps"). They and everyone else remain as they are, never-ending and never-changing.

She moves closer to him. Her shoulders shake and stops herself from crying. From passing off as anything but immortally powerful and capable and _determined_.

She has been emptied. And from the depleted mess she calls emotions, Katara draws on borrowed life and blood. (The moon is garish and full tonight.)

Perhaps the world is too-too cruel, and they are pawns in its malice.

She twists her hands and bends the man's bones.

"Where is my mother?" she demands.

And releases hold (the man) and watches him topple. Zuko grabs her arm for steadiness and brings her back to the present (for a moment, she is almost grateful for that).

And the man whimpers. They show no sympathy: there is no compassion left.


	19. Time

**Pairing: **Zuko x Katara

* * *

**Time**

_Time will heal everything_.

That was a lie, a damned, detestable, disgusting _lie_. And Katara hated that phrase more than anything else. Time took her mother, time took her life and every small bit of happiness she ever felt.

Except for him.

He was the only one left. A tiny, lingering piece of friend—of joy—of something she clutched onto with white-taut knuckles.

And so, when he lectured her on the beauty of time and passage, she could've killed him there. _Could've_ scarred him from the inside, boiling blood into blisters, make him _feel_.

"I really don't think you should say that again."

_I really, really think you should apologize_.

Zuko never did (saw no need, no fear).

He kicked his feet upon the table and waited for another retort. Another bantering, anything resounding from her—seethed and bathed in anger and resentment (that he understood perfectly). He wanted it too, revenge.

Only he never made it known, kept his fury quiet and lethally still.

_Time doesn't heal everything_. He wanted to say, but remained silent (he was good at avoiding truths).


	20. Strange

**Pairing: **Zuko x Katara

* * *

**Strange**

A stranger arrives before the new year's morning. Dressed in red and gold, he comes like a sun (a blinding sun that scorches and scourges the world over). The stranger brings gifts like a disease, wipes the countryside clean and wholly good.

And declares himself as a victor and the Conquering Hero.

And a woman shields her children with her arms, invokes water-gods and goddesses and sweeps his armies from the fields.

-

A stranger turns impatient and commands a purging. The woman cries and kills him in his sleep.

-

A thousand years passes and the woman and the stranger meet again.

She calls herself Katara, and he is Zuko.

And when they first touch, there is the underlying belief of past lives and past deals. And there is vindication to be paid (the girl tosses her head proudly). The boy takes a gamble and reaches for her hand.

Explains.

Another lifetime goes by unnoticed.

-

When they meet for the third time (millennia into the future) they resemble something weirder than bizarre, almost animalistic and wanting.

(They are always hungry.)

But now, she nods and accepts. Stranger than strange, fate is mocking.


	21. Between

**Pairing: **Zuko x Katara

* * *

**Between**

On the journey between life and death, they encounter each other.

Her hair is spun in weaves and coiled into a single chignon, and he is withered, weary, and old as a dying bank.

She smiles at him with soft eyes and a sweet expression he can't grasp.

-

Cautiously she lifts back her hood and steps gently into the rocking boat. He rows them both into the afterlife.

The water is soothing (she wonders if she could bend it back to life). She does not.

-

"We've met always in this place," she comments as they float down west.

"Yeah. I guess we do."

"Isn't that interesting?"

"What?"

"Nothing."

-

At the final stop before they progress into death-life, she gives him a charm and begs him to keep it close (for protection and remembrance). He accepts it awkwardly and honestly replies that he has nothing in return.

She shakes her head, expected that, and dissolves into the mist.

And he vanishes too before setting foot off the boat.

-

The world between worlds is a place Katara never mentions (neither does Zuko). They have seen enough of it for eternity. It is a place no one willingly ventures.


	22. Faith

**Pairing: **Zuko x Katara [MASSIVE credit to Yamikinoko. Thank you!]

* * *

**Faith**

_You only need to have faith_.

Katara can hear her mother's words in her head, all the time (and everywhere she goes) and even though Mother is Dearest, she knows that she is sick (and so tired) of hearing it.

_Faith, Mother, is an Illusion. Belief in what you do not See, Belief in what you cannot Prove._

Katara is Healer, Warrior, now Queen, now _Mother_, and still she cannot tell her daughter the same. The world's occurrences, the events that follow another's actions—there are a myriad of possibilities of actions behind every nuance, every shade. She herself can't tell, Katara the Wise, Mother Katara. She never could.

So when the Fire Lord comes to her at night and tells her that he loves her, Katara smiles and kisses him back, but she doesn't know how honest he is, or if he means it at all.

Zuko can't understand why she cannot give him all of her, as he is ready to do for her, but then again, he believes that his love has already been proven.

Katara cannot taste, or hear, or touch love, and for all his warmth and passion, it will never be enough.


	23. Mistaken

**Pairing: **Zuko x Katara

* * *

**Mistaken**

She thought she could change the world. She was mistaken.

He thought he could annihilate the world. He was mistaken.

The world continues spinning, and they are just two specks lost in the gamble, never winning. (But they never lose either. The world just _is_.)

-

She thought he loved Mai, and she was right—_partially_. Zuko did love Mai, but not anymore. Because now Mai has ceased loving him, and he realized that he loved the thought of loving more than anything else.

But when he declared his alleged love for _her_, she would have traded blood to believe it was true.

In Katara's heart, she doubted everything he said. And also had a horrifying, peculiar thought that he did love someone. And that someone was dead, a long time ago. (Or maybe it had been yesterday, Katara had no idea).

But what counted for was that Zuko didn't—couldn't—love the living.

Necrophilia (and incest). He was a king carved from infamy and sacrilege.

So she was always very careful to smile kindly at him and wear the veneer of friendship and trust.


	24. Spirit

**Pairing: **Zuko x Katara

* * *

**Spirit**

The Blue Spirit learned of the Painted Lady years after everyone else.

He knew of the details, could recite them by heart, but always thought she was a myth. Fictitious, fallacious, a _fabrication_ that floated from dreams and desperation. So, when he met her—living and breathing—he screamed.

It _must_ have been a mirage. It _must_ have been a trick, something. Anything. He refused to believe (see).

She laughed (at him, taunting) and tsked and shook her head in dismay.

"If I am fake, then so are you. I know who you are, and you know me. So stop with the tears and drama."

He unsheathed his swords and made twin fan-blades for defense. She easily slipped through them and met his nose with hers. The tips touch and release, jerk and jolt, and send him flying against the wall (behind, where the lanterns gave to a _shake_).

"It's too early for a fight."

"Or too late."

Too late for apologies.

The Blue Spirit shape-shifted into some other entity and gave himself a new name. A caesura inserted itself. And they were transported.

_Like it had just been a nightmare_.


	25. Chill

**Pairing: **Zuko x Katara

* * *

**Chill**

_It was all an elaborate metaphor._

She showed him how to turn ice into water (he was marginally impressed). He showed her how to defrost the ice (she was not at all impressed). They fight, they chaff and ache, they draw.

He took this instance as opportunity and whispered something into her ear. She saw that as retaliation and shoved him aside. He tumbled to the ground, gathering the sheets around him. And she stared down, tired and out of breath and cherry red.

"Cold."

"I can warm us up."

"That's not what I meant."

"That's what _I_ mean."

She slid over slick and slippery like hot oil across ice. He wrapped his arms around her waist and waited for lights to block out his vision.

They twisted and shirked and thought it might have been one.


	26. Familiar

**Pairing: **Zuko x Katara

* * *

**Familiar**

Zuko married Mai, and Katara married Aang (it was predictable and it was what happened).

But while Mai teased Aang mercilessly, and he blushed furiously at her jokes, never understanding exactly what they meant, Zuko and Katara played the parents. Chastised their children to _be nice_ and to _play fair_. And sometimes, when things became too rough and familiar, they acted as mediators.

Mai, _stop that_, and Aang, _quit it_.

They were an odd, ill-created family.

-

Mai said that Katara was jealous. And Katara said that Mai was stupid. And things resulted in a giant, ugly, incessant mess.

On the surface, they are the "best of friends" (even better than Ty Lee or Suki or any other girl they can rant off).

Katara was the one who nursed Mai when she was feverish and dehydrated. A mysterious malaise, quote the doctor. Who didn't know anything other than their names (and that Mai was the Fire Lord's wife).

-

They stopped talking one day.

And watched as the familiar gestures and ways become obsolete, and realize that things could never relapse to how they were.


	27. Cracks

**Pairing: **Zuko x Katara

**A/N: **This is the last of my Zutara drabble spree!

* * *

**Cracks**

There were faults and fissures in everyone's lives, everyone's stories, everyone. But for them, they had an unending train that cannot be mended no matter how strong the rope or string.

He lunged for her, he faltered, he embraced the air.

_In that cave, long ago. By the fountain, long ago. _

She had healed him then, pushing reserves and reserves of strength and energy into him. Watched him nearly die. And thought that what would be left of the survivors were simply their shells and names.

But still she tried and stuffed him of life. _This one was a prince_. Who was no more.

"You'll be okay, _please,_ you'll be okay."

_This one was a nobody_.

We are all nobodies_. _

He stirred and she flung herself onto him, reassured.

And she began to mend the cracks, slowly, and maybe—hoping and full of wistful will—one of the stitches will stick on.


End file.
